


Infinity on High

by ActionGerard



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-06 16:53:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13415565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActionGerard/pseuds/ActionGerard
Summary: WARNINGS:Overuse of constellation names, and tooth-rotting stuffs.NOTES:I wrote about flowers, now we're on to the stars. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it (for thirty minutes). Unedited, so I apologize for any mistakes.





	Infinity on High

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNINGS:** Overuse of constellation names, and tooth-rotting stuffs.
> 
>  **NOTES:** I wrote about flowers, now we're on to the stars. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it (for thirty minutes). Unedited, so I apologize for any mistakes.

 

_"Be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high, then life seems almost enchanted after all."_

 

The first time they started doing it, it was Will's fourteenth birthday. 

March in Hawkins was pretty much the same when it had been June, or September, maybe— cold even with the harsh sun like a plague, and misty during night time. It was rather freezing, which was why they were staying up at night at the Byers residence, backs against the cold roof, was a really questionable idea.

"You ever thought about constellations, Mike?"

It was harder to see the stars scattered above them because of the fog, but Will could still make up all of the constellations lined up like poetries in free verse, singing stories about freedom and misery and unrequited love. He swore he could see the archer shining somewhere, and thought of how those tiny specks of stars would fit perfectly in Mike's skin.

Mike looked at him, eyebrows furrowing slightly with confusion, before letting a soft smirk paint his lips, and asking, "Sure, but you're the nerd one, Byers."

Will laughed, rolling his eyes playfully. "You're kind of a jerk sometimes, I don't know why I put up with you."

"You love me," Mike answered simply with a smile. "Anyway, constellations?"

"Yes," said Will, before lying on his front and looking at Mike carefully. "You got them on your face."

"I do?"

Will nodded.

He tried ignoring the close proximity of their faces that made his heart beat abnormally loud, putting all those cliché butterfly metaphors to shame. There were birds— birds inside his ribcages, violently flapping its wings and trying to get away until Will could breathe no more. He could feel it in his throat, feel it in his chest, but he loved it. _God, he loved it so much._

Mike had always hated his freckles, always whined about how it made him look weird and flawed and hideous, as if those made sense at all— it didn't, last time Will checked. When he looked at Mike, he could only see this—  _this person_ who had a way of doing extraordinary things to him, things he didn't know he'd feel in a long time. He looked at Mike and he saw flaws and imperfections, but those enough made him  _perfect_ , if that even made sense. He loved the paradox— or was it irony?— of it all.

 "You got any favorites?" Mike asked with a grin.

"Let me see," Will responded, fishing the pen with silver ink out from his pocket, and showing it to Mike. 

"What are you going to do with that?" Mike asked cautiously, narrowing his eyes at Will.

"Stay still, Mike," Will mumbled, letting out a low chuckle. He started to uncap the pen, and plotting silver dots on Mike's cheeks, careful and slow, and he had to fight the urge to lean closer and press their lips together, because Mike's was just _right there_ , as if taunting him, and Will only had so much self control.

"It kind of tickles," Mike commented.

Will didn't answer though, and instead continued drawing made up stars before tracing them altogether, aligning them into a constellation, and Will wondered if it was possible to get lost in the universe Mike held, what with all the constellations in his skin, and the sun and the moon in his eyes. He wondered if it was possible to make a wish in a star, one inches away from his face, but then remembered how those never really granted wishes but break your heart instead.

"What is it?" Mike asked, raising his hand to touch his face, but Will gently pried it off, saying, "You'll smudge it."

"How do I look?" Mike smiled.

Mike looked stunning, with his stupid smile and stupid hair, all with the written constellation in his face. Will had to know— had to  _really know_ — if it would make sense for someone to shine as bright as stars, for them to spin the universe upon their fingertips without them knowing it.

"Okay," Will answered, resting his cheeks on his folded arms. "You have [Cassiopeia](http://www.thecelestialsolarsystem.com/images/cassiopeialines2.jpg) in your face."

"Really?"

"Hmmm," Will hummed, before letting out a soft yawn. "I can't believe I'm fourteen."

Mike laughed a little, ruffling Will's hair slightly, before replying, "Well, you better believe it, Byers." He let out a sigh, long and slow, before asking quietly, "Do you think we'll still be friends when you're fifteen?"

"We're probably still friends when we're fifty, Mike," Will smiled.

"Yeah," Mike nodded. "I hope so. Happy Birthday, Byers."

They stayed in silence after that, with Mike gazing at the stars above him while Will admired the one beside him. It was good, and it had been Will's best birthday so far.

Maybe wishes did come true, after all.

 

☆

 

Exactly one hour after Will's fifteen birthday, he found himself once again on the cold roof of his house with Mike Wheeler, talking about anything in general while trying to sound too quiet with the fear of waking his mom up. She had chastised Will the morning after his fourteenth birthday when he woke up with a cold, reminding him about falling off, or hypothermia, and since then, Will had been banned from climbing up their roof.

It was his birthday though, so he thought maybe she would make an exception, and he was with Mike anyway, and that itself was an excuse enough.

Mike didn't have a Cassiopeia in his face anymore though, and instead had a [Phoenix](https://www.profounddecisions.co.uk/mediawiki-public/images/thumb/1/15/PhoenixConstellation.JPG/320px-PhoenixConstellation.JPG) on it, since he insisted the firebird was his favorite after hours and hours of learning about constellations, upon Will's request. It didn't matter, Will had found out. Mike still looked amazing as usual anyway.

"Jane told me you've been unusually quiet lately," Mike mumbled, looking at Will with a concerned expression on his face. "Is everything all right?"

"Sure."

Sometimes, Will had forgotten about Jane. He kept on forgetting that Mike was in love with her, that no matter how much those chick films tried romanticizing it, falling in love with your best friend was just heartbreak in the making, in all its finest and glory. There was nothing sweet about it, despite the cinematic feeling he got whenever Mike would smile at him or hold his hand unintentionally.

It was pretty hopeless.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Mike," said Will with a resigned sigh.

"No, really," Mike insisted, looking at Will. " _Anything_. I don't care if it's about nerdy constellation facts or daily rants about Troy— I mean it, Will."

"I know that."

Will supposed it sucked because he knew it was true. Mike had always been nice to him, almost to the point where he would over read between the lines, wondering if what those meant to him meant the same thing to Mike as well. It sucked worse, because he couldn't blame Mike about it, and he had to shoulder all the stupidity and disappointments because he brought those things to himself.

"How's Jane anyway?"

"She's okay," Mike answered shortly, shrugging. "She gets better with words, if that answers your question. She gets a lot more curious everyday though."

"That's good."

Will sometimes wished he could hate Jane, sometimes annoyed at the fact that she was sweet and lovely, and there was honest to God no reason to be mad at her. He was quick enough to make sure to get rid of those thoughts though, because Jane didn't deserve that. It was unfair, and Will knew how that one felt. 

"She talks about you a lot."

"She does?" Will asked, slightly confused.

"She does."

Will didn't exactly know what to feel about that.

 "You think we'll still be friends when your turn sixteen?" Mike asked, grinning at him. The glittery ink on his face was smudged now, messy and shiny against his pale skin.

"Maybe, if you're nice," Will chuckled.

"Low blow, Byers," Mike retorted, feigning offense. "You wound me." He flashed a warm smile, before sighing, scooting closer to Will and mumbling, "Happy Birthday, William."

Will smiled, and wished upon the stars.

 

☆

 

When Will had turned sixteen, Mike and Jane stopped dating. They were still pressed against the cold hard roof of the Byers' house, but it was considerably colder, both inside and out. It was making him shiver, and the layers of clothes he was wrapped in wasn't helping plenty.

Mike had still allowed him to draw constellations on his face, making a canvas of the creamy pale skin with scattered freckles all over. It felt a little off, like sketching something out of his nightmares, but he didn't mention it. He let Mike stay quiet, just silently studying the [Andromeda](http://www.clipartpal.com/_thumbs/pd/andromeda_black.png) sparkling on his face, ink shining against the light of the moon despite the dull expression on Mike's face.

Will wished he could do something about it.

"I'm sorry," he offered instead, letting out a soft sigh.

"It's not your fault." Mike was staring up at the sky, probably oblivious about the fact that he was the prettiest star that ever existed. "I think the worse thing is that I understand why she did it— that I know and that in a way, I agree with her."

Will nodded.

"I think both of us knew it was ending anyway," Mike huffed out a bitter laugh. "We just didn't know when, and now here we are."

"I'm sorry," Will said again, lacking of better words to say. He had hoped it at least made Mike feel better.

"It's okay," Mike answered. "I'm sorry I ruined your birthday."

"You didn't."

Sometimes, Will felt like Mike was drifting away from him— then felt bad when those thoughts usually came around. He felt as if Mike was slowly clawing his way out of his own skin, revealing another version of him— someone Will wasn't sure he knew. He was certain Mike was still the same— probably still was as when they were thirteen— but sometimes, it didn't feel like it. It was a stupid thought though— Will hadn't stayed the same, so why should Mike?

"I kind of miss you sometimes," Will admitted, under his breath, but loud enough for Mike to hear.

 "I'm just here, Will," Mike replied, voice small.

Will wanted to say it didn't feel like that sometimes, wanted to express how much it hurt him whenever he would dream of Mike leaving him alone, forgetting him— those nights were usually the most restless ones. Instead, he had nodded, forcing a small smile, and mumbling, "I know."  

"You think you'll still want to draw stars on my face when you're seventeen?" Mike asked, glancing at Will.

"Of course," Will answered simply. "Who else will allow me to vandalize their face?"

Mike laughed, genuinely, the first time that evening, and Will didn't notice how much he had missed the sound of it until now. Strange how he could compare a single person to all the godly things in the world, how someone could be the stars and universes, and how their laugh could sound like music.

"Yeah?" Mike asked, grinning. "You'll still want to be friends with people who are _fun_ in birthdays?"

"If it's awkward boys named Mike Wheeler," Will teased, letting out a low chuckle. "Anytime."  

Will thought, yeah, maybe. Anytime was the perfect answer for that.

 

☆

 

Will was seventeen now, and he was still connecting constellations on Mike's cheeks, hands covered in silver glittery inks, and face tired from smiling too much. Mike had  _two_ constellations on his face now— [Serpens](http://www.redorbit.com/media/uploads/2004/10/10_75c58c2c2fd5ac3f2e9b2cacc5e4ae8a2.jpg) and [Delphinus](http://www.ne.jp/asahi/stellar/scenes/seiza/del.jpg)— since Will insisted it would be better that way.

Mike had been better— they both had been. They changed, in more ways than one, growing up and leaving the phases that were once too good to let go off. It was fine— they were fine, they had been for so long. 

Will could never really ask for more.

"Hey, Will?" Mike looked at him, grinning, looking ridiculously adorable with glitters on his face, eyes shining slightly from the light of the moon above them, laying low in the sky. It physically hurt to look at him, and Will had to stop himself from clutching his chest.

"Yeah?"

"How come you spend your birthdays with me?"

Will furrowed his eyebrows, looking at Mike, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You usually spend your birthdays with me, drawing stars on my face in your roof," Mike simply said, furrowing his eyebrows as well. "You have been, for the past four years."

"Do you not like it?" Will asked quietly, afraid of the answer he might hear.

"I do, I do," Mike answered, flashing a reassuring smile. He looked up at the sky, as if contemplating, before letting out a soft sigh and continuing, "It's just— I don't know. You could've been spending it with the others, but you chose me instead."

Will decided he was done wasting time. He had been doing that for the past years, letting moments past, crossing out every opportunities possible because of one thing: fear— and he didn't want to be afraid anymore. He let it devour him for so long, but he wasn't playing with that anymore.

He couldn't let any more chances past by.

 "I like spending my birthdays with you," Will admitted, before adding, a little more quietly, "I like you."

"What?"

"I like you," Will repeated, louder, and was surprised his voice didn't waver. It felt good, saying it out loud. It felt amazing, it felt nice. For once, it felt as if he was just... _free_. "I like you, since— since God knows when."

Mike was looking at him with an indecipherable expression on his face, eyes widening slightly and mouth agape. Maybe it had been a mistake, maybe he wasn't supposed to feel free. Maybe Mike would never talk to him anymore, thinking about how he messed up, and he got that because once again, he brought it to himself. He opened his mouth, was about to apologize, but Mike beat him to it, letting out softly.

"Will, I like you, too."

"You don't have to let me down softly, Mike," Will muttered, unable to grasp the words Mike had said. "I can take it, you don't have to lie." 

Will really appreciated the sentiment, you know? This was Mike he was talking to, after all, and of course, Mike wouldn't be someone who would want to hurt him roughly— of course, but he didn't really need that right now. He had grown tired of people treating him like he was fragile, as if he would break from the slightest bump.

"I'm not lying," Mike answered, sitting up, and looking at Will seriously. "I really do like you— have for a long time."

Will sat up as well, looking at Mike with wide eyes and whispering, "You mean it?"

"I do," Mike nodded, eyes starting to get glassy.

In that moment, Will felt as if none of the twenty six letters in the alphabet could help him express what he was feeling, none of the words ever listed in his vocabulary could give justice to what this—  _this thing_ was. The metaphors had run dry in his tongue, altogether with the logical excuses he had been feeding his mind for the past years.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around Mike's neck, ignoring the bursting sensation in his chest, and let himself sob for once, feeling himself getting engulfed in Mike's arms as well and all of a sudden, March didn't feel too cold anymore.

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, contented with each other's warmth, all the stars shining above them forgotten.

It was fine.

Mike had always been his favorite star anyway.     

"You know what I think?" Mike said once they pulled away— not too far— foreheads touching, and giggling uncontrollably, filled with too much elation their little bodies could handle.

"What?"   

Mike grinned, letting out a soft laugh, placing both his hands on Will's cheeks before answering, "I think I can't wait for your next birthday."

"Oh, yeah?" Will chuckled.

"Yeah," Mike answered with a smile. "Happy Birthday, Byers."

Will smiled back before pressing their lips together, swearing he could almost see the fireworks exploding above them. This? This was so much better than any constellations combined, so much better than the brightness of the universe, and God—  _God_ , he hoped this wasn't some cruel joke fate had decided to play on him.     

"I think you're my favorite constellation," Mike mumbled slowly the moment they pulled away.

Will smiled, and for once, started believing that wishes actually did come true. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm like dropping hints for you to leave kudos (only if you liked it though).


End file.
